Sammael laughed outright. “It takes time to redirect an army. Believe me, it will never move against me.”

“You think not? One or two of my little friends say he wants you dead because you killed some of his pet Maidens. Were I you, I would be thinking about somewhere less conspicuous, somewhere he might not find me.” Not a flicker of an eyelid out of him. It was as if all the strings that usually moved him had been cut.

“What should it matter a few Maidens died?” The look on his face was truly puzzled. “It was battle; soldiers die in battle. Al’Thor may be a farmer, but he has generals to fight his battles and explain matters. I doubt he even noticed.”

“You really never have looked at these people. They have changed as much as the land, Sammael. Not just the Aiel. In some ways, the rest have changed much more. Those soldiers were women, and to Rand al’Thor, that makes a difference.”

He shrugged dismissively, and she suppressed contempt, kept the streith steady in a calm fog. He had never understood that you must understand people to make them do as you wished. Compulsion was all very well, but you could not use Compulsion on the entire world.

She wondered whether the stasis box had been this cache that he claimed he would put his hands on soon. If he had even one angreal. . . . If he did, she would find out, but probably not before he let her. “I suppose we shall see how much wiser the primitive Lews Therin has become, then.” She raised a doubting eyebrow, managed a smile of her own. No reaction. Where had he found this leash for his temper? Lews Therin’s name alone should have been enough to loose it. “If he fails to chase you out of Illian like a cosa scampering up a tree, perhaps—”

“That might be waiting too long,” he cut in smoothly. “Too long for you, that is.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat, Sammael?” Her gown shifted to a pale rose, but she let it stay. Let him be aware she was angry. “I thought you learned long ago that threatening me is a mistake.”

“No threats, Graendal,” he replied calmly. All of his pressure points had gone numb; nothing seemed to shift him out of that amused coolness. “Merely facts. Al’Thor will not attack me, and I will not attack him. And of course, I agreed not to aid any other Chosen should al’Thor find them. All very much in accordance with the Great Lord’s commands, wouldn’t you say?”

“Of course.” She kept her face smooth, but the streith had gone a deeper rose, losing some of its mistiness. In part the color was still anger. There was more to this, but how was she to find out?